Sakura
by Aoi Ryuu
Summary: Hisoka's not feeling quite right a couple days after his first case with Tsuzuki....PG-13 just in case.
1. Hisoka POV

This was an idea that popped into my head and absolutely refused to leave me alone until I typed it out. So here it is. It takes place a couple days after Hisoka and Tsuzuki return from their first case together. Prolly more anime oriented, but I don't think it makes that much difference.  
I think part of this came from how I noticed so many people writing Hisoka as hating the sakura grove, and I'd never written or rp-ed him that way, but the idea that the sakura could bring back the memories was a solid one.  
PG-13 just in case.  
First chapter is Hisoka's POV.   
Disclaimer: I don't own Yami no Matsuei, or any characters or settings the series contains.  
  
I've just finished my first case as a shinigami.  
  
I'm trying not to think about it.  
  
Right now, I'm just wandering around the meifu, trying not to think of anything at all.  
  
It's hard.  
  
It started raining a while ago. I'm not sure how long ago exactly...long enough to drench me. The rain is weighing me down; numbing my skin, but the constant drumming over every part of me steals my focus and makes it easier to think of nothing at all. Not the past, not the future.  
  
Maybe if it rains enough, maybe if the rain beats down upon me long enough, it'll wash away the feeling of being dirty, tainted. I know it won't.  
  
My thoughtless wandering has led me into the sakura grove. Everything is darker, more vivid, drenched in the rain. The bark is painted a darker black, the petals have turned pinker. The water darkened grass is slippery, and I suddenly find myself flat on my back, staring up into a watery canopy of pink and grey, streaked with charcoal slashes.  
  
I make no move to get up. The mud under me is working its way through my shirt, and the overlarge drops pushing me down aren't helping. Right now, I'm not sure I could get up if I tried. I'm just that tired.  
  
I haven't slept in days. The last time I tried, I woke up screaming, scared out of my mind, and feeling like my skin was on fire.   
  
I don't want to think about this.  
  
Since I returned to the meifu, I've been listless and lethargic. I haven't eaten except for a few bites that I forced myself to swallow because I knew I needed to.  
  
I don't want to think about this.  
  
I've been staring up at the sky and the dripping clumps of sakura without seeing them. The rain has been knocking delicate petals off the trees in droves. One of the cloud-soft petals lands just below my eye. I reach up to brush it off, the small movement almost more than I can accomplish in my current state.  
  
My hand is splattered in mud, and coated with a layer of sakura petals. The damp mangled flowers stick to my skin...  
  
...just like....  
  
No.... I don't want them on me.  
  
...just like they did...  
  
I don't want to think about this...! I don't want them on me!  
  
...that night. The night I lost everything.  
  
I don't want to remember! I don't want him on me!  
  
Unreasoning terror races through my mind, igniting in my blood, and setting fire to my skin. Flames that aren't there trace paths over my body as if following lines of oil. I think I'm screaming.  
  
All I can see are the shadows of that night. Blood red moon. Searing pain and consuming darkness. Death, madness, blood, sweat, tears. A sick taint that has nothing to do with the bloody characters that burn my skin with raw power.  
  
Suddenly the shades are no longer insubstantial. I can feel actual hands on my arms, holding me down, pushing me into the carpet of crushed grass, flowers, and mud.   
  
I don't want him on me!   
  
I'm kicking, screaming, my mind lost in a quicksand of panic and fear and disgust.  
  
He's laying on me now, pinning me to the ground. I can't kick, can't push him away.  
  
Helpless, useless, dirty, worthless, tainted, child....  
  
Something that isn't rain is dripping down my face. I can't tell if it's blood, tears, or sweat, and I don't think I want to know.   
  
I let myself go limp. I can't fight him. I can't do anything. I lie still, waiting for the pain to begin, waiting for it to begin so he can finish with me and leave me here, broken and shamed in the rain.  
  
The pain doesn't come.  
  
I'm shaking now, trembling with a combination of terror and cold shivers. Slowly a voice filters through the fog enshrouding my mind. My senses return, and I don't feel the dark desire and despair that marked the one who killed me. I feel worry and concern.   
  
I open my eyes slowly, having just realized that they had been shut tight since the fit of remembrance started.  
  
My shaky gaze catches, not cold silver, but warm violet. It takes me a long moment to recognize the face.  
  
My partner.  
  
Tsuzuki.  
  
He moves back quickly, allowing me room to sit up, but my energy has gone again as the adrenaline leaves my system. It's all I can do to close my eyes once more and will away tears of relief.  
  
He picks me up, out of the mess of mud and flora, and I don't have the strength to fight him. My hands are shaking as I catch fistfuls of his shirt and cling to him like a lifeline. Later on I will regret this show of fear and need. I will regret letting him see me weak like this. I will regret acting like a child.  
  
Right now, though, I can feel his warmth, and I realize how cold the rain is. I can hear his hurried heartbeat. Its rhythm combines with the sound of the rain and the thud of his rushed footsteps, weaving a percussive lullaby that calls my weary mind to rest.  
  
The last thought that enters my mind before I lose myself in sleep is guilt for getting mud on Tsuzuki's clothes. 


	2. Tsuzuki POV

This chapter is Tsuzuki's POV.   
Disclaimer: I don't own Yami no Matsuei, or any characters or settings the series contains.  
  
I just finished my first case with my new partner.  
  
Now he's missing.  
  
I've been looking for him all day. We were supposed to meet with Konoe, but he never showed up. I checked his house, but he wasn't there, either.  
  
I hope he hasn't left.  
  
I honestly don't know where he would be. I looked throughout the office, despite most of the day having been a day off for us. He wasn't anywhere inside, not at his desk, or the library, not even the Mansion of Candles.  
  
I don't understand why he would be outside. It's cold, and pouring rain, but I haven't searched the grounds yet, so perhaps he is out here.  
  
I really hope he hasn't left.  
  
Getting my hopes up was stupid.  
  
I'm so tired of losing partners. I want someone to stay with me, to prove I'm not more trouble than I'm worth.   
  
I hoped Hisoka would stay.  
  
It was stupid to think he would.  
  
I've come to the sakura grove, the last place left to check. After this I should probably just go home if I don't find him. He'll just be one more partner who has abandoned me.  
  
Wait...there, ahead...is that him? I can see a person lying on the ground, some distance away. Small, pale, slim...Hisoka!  
  
Why is he lying in the mud in the rain? Is he hurt?   
  
I hurry closer, worried about my partner. He raises a hand before I reach him. I can see his muscles tighten even through the haze of falling drops.  
  
He screams suddenly, terrified, for no apparent reason. The sound startles me, and I freeze, watching him in shock as he claws at his face and arms. He screams again, calling for help, crying out against an invisible foe.  
  
I can't help but wonder if he's gone mad as I rush to his side. His eyes, usually such a vibrant green, are dull and unseeing. It's disturbing to see him like that, just like when I caught him trying to sneak into the secret documents room.  
  
He's still fighting, raising bloody scratches on his skin. I realize with horror that not all the crimson lines are blood. Some are magic-a curse, written into his skin and flaring to life.  
  
I have to stop his thrashing before he really hurts himself. I catch hold of his arms, holding him down. He's kicking me now, but I shift position to hold his legs under me as well.  
  
I'm calling his name, trying to wake him from the day terror that has ensnared him. He doesn't respond to me, but I can see tears leaking from between his lashes.  
  
He goes limp suddenly, and I realize that he's given up. He knows that he can't free himself. I watch sadly, nearly overcome with worry as his head falls to the side, tears flowing freely down his face. I can feel him shaking, and I call to him, over and over, hoping to break him free of his mental terror.  
  
Finally, he opens his eyes. The leaf green irises once again reflect light; though they are filled with such fear that I almost wish he hadn't opened them. He stares at me for several seconds before he recognizes me.  
  
Once I know that he won't do any further damage to himself, I move off him, allowing him to get up.   
  
He doesn't try to move, though, aside from shutting his eyes again. He's too pale and too thin, with dark circles under his eyes. I can tell that he hasn't been sleeping well, and I doubt he's eaten much.  
  
So I scoop him up out of the mud to carry him back to my house. He's lighter than he should be, and cold. He's probably been out in the rain for a while.   
  
He clings to my shirt, shaking, and still crying, though I can tell he's trying not to. He doesn't put up a fuss at being carried as I suspect he normally would have, which goes far to say how tired he is.  
  
Within minutes he has fallen asleep, and his grip on my shirt lessens ever so slightly.  
  
I make it back to my house with no trouble, though it is a bit difficult to get out my key, unlock, and open the door while holding him.  
  
I take him to the bathroom and try to wash some of the mud out of his hair and clothes before I remove his soaked garments and exchange them for a dry shirt of my own.   
  
His skin is still too pale, and cool to the touch. He looks small, frail, in my shirt, the hem of which reaches to his knees.  
  
I carry him to my room and put him to bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and plucking a stray sakura petal out of his hair. His face has relaxed, and I realize he's fallen into the dreamless sleep of the extremely exhausted.  
  
I smile sadly, looking at him. It's horrible to think about all he had to go through in life.  
  
I move away from the bed, exchanging my own dripping, mud covered outfit for a clean shirt and pair of pants. I ignore the soggy pile, choosing instead to pull a chair closer to my bed so I can watch over my partner.  
  
I'm glad that he didn't leave. I really wanted him to stay...because...  
  
...he needs me.  
  
He needs me to show him compassion.  
  
And I need him too, I think 


End file.
